


Five Times Pyro Wanted to Kiss Quicksilver

by Stormchild



Category: X-Men Evolution
Genre: Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, One-Sided Attraction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-06
Updated: 2019-07-06
Packaged: 2020-06-23 12:57:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19701847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stormchild/pseuds/Stormchild
Summary: And one time he did.





	Five Times Pyro Wanted to Kiss Quicksilver

**Author's Note:**

> Behold, an obscure rare-pare I have no idea why I wrote this. I started it forever ago and decided to finish it. I think the idea was that Pyro hates Magneto so much that he falls in love w Pietro as a fuck you to him? Idk.  
> Consider this an apology for my absence.

1.

Pyro was a man of simple pleasures. He liked burning shit. He liked extra cheese on his pizza. He liked writing. And apparently, he liked pretty men. Being attracted to men wasn't a recent development, it was the pretty part that was new.

But then, there was pretty, and there was Quicksilver pretty.

It had never occurred to him that someone who looked so much like Magneto could be so damn pretty. He was slim, almost runway model thin, but Pyro could see outlines of firm muscle beneath the obscenely tight uniform. The white lines that ran down his sides made him seem even slimmer. He couldn't stop from imagining himself running his hands up Quicksilver's side.

Baby blue eyes turned their attention to Pyro, and it was like having the wind knocked out of him. Quicksilver wasn't just pretty, he was gorgeous. Those pretty lips pulled up into a smile, and Pyro wondered if they were as soft as they looked.

2.  
"Fuck, I need a smoke."

Pyro wrinkled his nose as Pietro pulled a pack of cigarettes from his inside jacket pocket. It wasn't something he'd ever gotten into. He hated the smell of the stuff. 

"Since when d'you smoke?" he asked.

"Since I realized it's cheaper than food."

The words were spoken so nonchalantly that Pyro almost wondered why he felt like vomiting. Pietro's meaning caught up to him, and Pyro had to clear his throat to get rid of the lump that had formed there.

Pietro held the cigarette out to him. Pyro scoffed, but held out a lighter anyway. 

"I don't actually make fire, you know."

Pietro shrugged. He sat down on the step outside the Brotherhood house's door. Snow hadn't fallen yet, but the cold stone couldn't have been comfortable. 

"Lance keeps swiping my lighters."

"Good. That shit'll kill you."

"Better this shit than Magneto."

The comment hung heavily in the air between them. Pyro shoved his hands into his pockets. He should have worn some damn gloves. His eyes followed the rising smoke as Pietro exhaled, passing the dark shadows under his bright blue eyes.

"He wouldn't kill you," Pyro said, though he wasn't sure he believed it.

"He wouldn't save me, either," Pietro pointed out, pulling off the cigarette just long enough to respond. "He doesn't give a shit about me."

"Fuck 'im, then."

Pietro's lips pulled into a sneer as his eyes slipped shut, too bitter for Pyro to appreciate. 

"Because that would help."

He brought the cigarette back to his lips. He sucked his cheeks in a little as he inhaled deeply to get as much crap into his lungs as possible. 

The smell of smoke reached Pyro's nostrils. He was struck by an urge to grab the cigarette and replace the taste of it in Pietro's mouth with his tongue. 

3.  
"What's your real name?"

The question made Pyro snort. He'd think that of all people, Magneto's son would be the last to ask it. He hadn't thought of himself as anything but Pyro for years.

And yet, Pietro wasnever Quicksilver.

"Why's it matter?"

"It doesn't." Pietro rested his elbow on his knee and propped his chin on his knuckles. "I'm just curious. You know my name."

Which was true. It seemed fair. But Pyro hated his name. It was awful and pompous and madehim sound like a dick just for having it. But Pietro bat his eyelashes at him, on purpose or not, and it was too hard to resist. What was the harm? He was sure Pietro wouldn't- Actually, he couldn't be sure Pietro wouldn't tell. It was too ridiculous to keep to himself.

"If I tell you, it stays between us."

Pietro placed his free hand on his chest.

"St. John Allerdyce."

Bright blue eyes widened and his pretty mouth fell open. 

"Really?"

"Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up."

"I wasn't going to laugh. I like it. It's poetic. St. John Allerdyce."

It sounded like music the way Pietro said it. The way his lips and tongue formed the words. Would it be awkward to ask him to say it again?

"I should call you that more. St. John."

Just like that, Pyro didn't hate his name anymore.

4.  
There were speed readers, and there was Pietro Maximoff. Pyro had only printed his manuscript off half an hour ago - using Magneto's printer, of course - and Pietro was already half-way through. A red pen lingered between his teeth for only a second at a time. He wondered if Pietro noticed that his female love interest had the same delicate build as him.

It had been entirely unintentional until Pyro realized it. Then, he decided to just run with it.

Every time Pietro put the pen to paper, his pink tongue flicked out over his lips. 

Before Pyro could get anxious, Pietro was done. Months of work agonizing over words and turns of phrase, and Pietro flipped through it in minutes like it was a brochure. 

And then he smiled. 

"I like it. I never took you for the romantic type. I like the scene where he asks her to run away with him. It was sweet."

It was a scene Pyro had played over a thousand times in his head, but not with the characters on the page. 

"Do you think it was enough to make her go with him? Or do you think she would have stayed?"

Or would you have stayed? he wants to ask.

Pietro hummed, the pen back between his lips.

"I think it would make me want to. But I don't have the same kind of liberties she does."

There was a sadness in Pietro's eyes that Pyro got so used to, he almost forgot about. But he said things like that and it was all Pyro can do not to take him in his arms and find a place for them very far from here.

"You will."

5.  
"My father is dead."

Pyro had long since lost count of the number of times Pietro had said it in the past hour. It was the only thing he'd said, alternating between relief, disbelief, fear, like it couldn't believe it and didn't want to believe it at the same time. He stared out with a vacant expression, a cigarette in one hand and a bottle of Smirnoff Ice in his other. The latter didn't seem to have any effect, but Pyro wasn't going to ask.

"My father is dead."

"I know."

Pietro turned his head towards Pyro. His eyes were bloodshot and glassy from crying. It was a pitiful sight. 

"What am I supposed to do?"

"Forget about him."

His lips turned up into a sad smile. "I don't know how."

Pyro wasn't sure how either, but he thought he would do anything to make it happen.

1.  
Pyro couldn't believe they were still alive. After all that, they were actually alive. Sure, he hadn't been afraid to die. He just didn't particularly want to. When the adrenaline and the high of not being dead wore off, he had to slump against Colossus for support. Colossus didn't seem to mind. What a nice guy.

His eyes moved around, trying to spot a familiar head of white hair. It was easier to spot the obnoxious red helmet. 

Pyro pushed through the throng of mutants until the Brotherhood and Magneto were in sight. He let out a relieved breath when he saw that the twins were part of the group. 

Magneto was slumped forward, supported by his children. Pyro's stomach twisted in disgust. He had no right to lean on them for anything. Not after all the hell he'd put them through. Wanda was looking up at him in concern, but Pietro's pretty face was hard. 

Good. 

Magneto was a piece of shit who didn't deserve Pietro to be happy that he was alive.

Pietro looked up and his expression softened. A soft smile even grazed his lips.

Fuck it. Pyro had never been known for his impulse control. He crosses the distance between them. Pietro only raised his eyebrows in surprise as Pyro wrapped his arms around Pietro's waist. His blood rushed through his veins. Good, Pietro was so slim, light enough he could pick him up if you wanted to. But Pyro could feel firm muscles beneath the tight spandex of his uniform. Would it be inappropriate to feel him up a little? What was he thinking, of course it was. As if that didn't just make him want to do it more. 

"I'm so glad you're alive," Pietro whispered. 

Those pretty blue eyes welled with tears. They sparkled. Actually sparkled. 

Pyro didn't know how to say the same. There weren't words to describe the tight pressure strangling his heart when he hadn't been able to spot the speedster. 

He had always been a man of action. He pressed his mouth to Pietro's with no regard for who was watching. 

Pietro kissed back.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me at mechanicalpoet.tumblr.com.


End file.
